His Dimple Quotes & Sayings

I guessed I'd been out of it when he'd (Hephaestus) showed. "I can't believe Apollo hit me with a god bolt."
"I can't believe Aiden punched him," Marcus said, downing the rest of his wine.
"What?" My mouth dropped open. "You did not."
The half-grin spread until a dimple appeared in his left cheek. "I did."
"All those times you yelled at me for hitting people, and you hit a god?" I couldn't believe it.
That half-grin turned into a full smile. "This was a different situation. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

And as if the wink was't crazy enough, now he had the gall to flash that smile of his. It deepened the dimple in his left cheek, the one she'd always thought was sweet enough to launch a thousand lady boners - it'd certainly launched a thousand of her. — Julie Ann Walker

"It's me I'm losing control of. Hundreds of sketches, and still can't get enough of your face." He traces the dimple in my chin with his thumb. "Your beck." His palm moves along my throat. "Your ... " both hands find my waist and drag me off the table so we're standing toe tote. "I'm not wasting another second drawing you," he whispers against my lips, "when I can touch you instead." He presses his mouth to mine.
A spark, hot and electric, jumps between us. Shock and sensation shimmer through me, aglow with his heat ad flavor. Six year of secret desire. Six years of denying that he's the orbit of my world.
To think, he's been running from me, too. — A.G. Howard

She was not expecting him to smile. And so, when he did- a wicked, wolfish grin that shook her to her toes- she was completely unprepared. A burst of heat spread through her, and her heart began to pound. She couldn't stop staring at his white teeth, his wide, soft lips, the single dimple that appeared in one cheek.
'He was more handsome than he had ever been. — Sarah MacLean

Hey, pal, Matthew whispered. He was the only person who could get away with calling Ronan pal. Matthew Lynch was a bear of a boy, square and solid and earnest. His head was covered with soft, golden curls completely unlike any of his other family members. And in his case, the perfect Lynch teeth were framed by an easy, dimpled smile. He had two brands of smile: the one that was preceded by a shy dip of his chin, a dimple, and then BAM, smile. And the one that teased for a moment before BAM, an infectious laugh. Females of all ages called him adorable. Males of all ages called him buddy. Matthew failed at many more things than either of his older brothers, but unlike Declan or Ronan, he always tried his hardest.
Ronan had dreamt one thousand nightmares about something happening to him. — Maggie Stiefvater

Cam?"
"Yeah?"
"What were you doing in the den? Don't you normally have class, like, right now?"
His lips curved up at the corner and that dimple appeared. When he smiled like that, it felt like a ballon had suddenly inflated in my chest. "Yeah, I normally have class right now," he said, eyes a startling azure in the sun. "But I wanted to see you. — J. Lynn

As he grinned, a dimple formed on his right cheek. My heart quivered. Men like him should come with a warning: date at your own risk — Jayde Scott

You...you always made everything sound like it's not a big deal. You're doing that now."
His lips continued to curve on the right and the dimple appeared. Then he sighed and scooted forward, spreading his legs. His hands suddenly landed on my hips, and I almost dropped the cotton ball at the unexpected contact. My breath caught as he lowered me so I was sitting on the edge of the coffee table and he kept moving forward, the inside of his legs sliding against the outside of mine. The rough material of his jeans touching my bare skin sent a raw, drenching rush of sensation through my veins.
"That better?" he asked, peering at me through lowered lashes.
I blinked, having no idea what he was talking about, and then I realized that seated like this, it was easier to reach him. His hands dropped from my hips to rest on his thighs, and they were oh so close to mine. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

I'm glad...you texted."
Rider tilted his head to the side. "Yeah?"
I nodded, probably a little too eagerly, but as the dimple in his right cheek took shape, it was like being rewarded. Our eyes met for a moment, and I didn't want him to leave. An urge took me like it had during lunch, and I all but bounced forward. Gripping his arms, I stretched up and kissed his cheek. It was pretty much just a peck, so I figured it wasn't crossing any lines, but the feel of his skin under my lips was still unnerving and unexpected.
"Be careful," I whispered, backing off.
Rider's grin faded from his handsome face. A moment passed before he spoke. "Always, Mouse. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

I gave a relenting sigh. "Fine! I'll throw on some clothes. Turn around. I'm in my pj's." Pj's that consisted of nothing but a tank top and boy shorts
an image I didn't want to sear into Scott's mind.
Scott smiled. "I'm a guy. That's like asking a kid not to glance at the candy counter." Ugh. The dimple in his cheek deepened. And it was not in any way cute ... — Becca Fitzpatrick

I'm ... pretty sure I'm in love with Travis,"
My eyes still focused on the pavement, I handed Travis his phone, and then reluctantly peered up at his expression. A combination of confusion, shock, and adoration scrolled across his face.
He scanned my face with careful hope in his eyes. "You love me?"
"It's the tattoos," I shrugged.
A wide smile stretched across his face, making his dimple sink into his cheek. "Come home with me," he said, enveloping me in his arms.
My eyebrows shot up. "You said all that to get me in bed? I must have made quite an impression."
"The only thing I'm thinking about right now is holding you in my arms all night."
"Let's go," I smiled. — Jamie McGuire

I like my women soft and round. His blue gaze burned into hers. I don't lie, Becca. I love your body, every single curve, every dimple, every scar. — Cherise Sinclair

It's brown." So maybe I had the teeniest, tiniest, most infinitesimal amount of auburn in my hair. I was still a brunette. "It's the lighting," I said.
"Yeah, maybe it's the lightbulbs." His smile brought up both sides of his mouth, and a dimple surfaced. — Becca Fitzpatrick

When the finally pulled apart, Rishi's mouth tingling still, Dimple smiled shyly and looked down at their hands, entwined between them on the bench. "So," she said softly. "That was unexpected."

He leaned over and kissed her forehead, like it was the most natural thing to do. Was this going to be their thing now, casual kissing? He hoped so. "Unexpected but awesome." Rishi paused. "Right?"

She laughed and looked up at him. "Definitely."

He grinned, his heart soaked in happy. — Sandhya Menon

Haste thee, Nymph, and bring with thee Jest, and youthful Jollity, Quips, and Cranks, and wanton Wiles, Nods, and Becks, and wreathed Smiles, Such as hang on Hebe's cheek, And love to live in dimple sleek; Sport that wrinkled Care derides, And Laughter holding both his sides. — John Milton

Oh, my god!" I said to Reyes, my eyes radiating accusations at him. "She took your picture? Just what kind of game are you playing? You're under arrest, mister." His mouth tilted and a dimple emerged on one cheek as I took his wrist and threw him against a wall. Or, well, urged him toward it. I held him against the cool wood with one hand and frisked him with the other. — Darynda Jones

He had the kind of smile that inhabited every part of his face
his eyes, his cheeks; there was even a dimple. — Kristin Hannah

He scanned my face with careful hope in his eyes.
"You love me?"
"It's the tattoos," I shrugged.
A wide smile stretched across his face, making his
dimple sink into his cheek. — Jamie McGuire

You're sorry? I damn near drank myself to death, I could barely get out of bed, I shattered my phone into a million pieces on New Year's Eve to keep from calling you ... and you're sorry?"
I bit my lip and nodded, ashamed. I had no idea what he'd been through, and hearing his say the words made sharp pain twist inside my chest. "I'm so ... so sorry."
"You're forgiven," he said with a grin. "Don't ever do it again."
"I won't. I promise."
He flashed his dimple and shook his head. "I fucking love you. — Jamie McGuire

Rostov kept thinking about that brilliant feat of his, which, to his surprise, had gained him the St. George Cross and even given him the reputation of a brave man - and there was something in it that he was unable to understand. "So they're even more afraid than we are!" he thought. "So that's all there is to so-called heroism? And did I really do it for the fatherland? And what harm had he done, with his dimple and his light blue eyes? But how frightened he was! He thought I'd kill him. Why should I kill him? My hand faltered. And they gave me the St. George Cross. I understand nothing, nothing! — Leo Tolstoy

Do you ride?" That sounded sort of dirty, and the way he looked at me felt sort of dirty, too. No one ever looked at me like that.
"Why 'Ghost'?" I asked.
Grasping the top of the car door, he leaned over it and spoke in a dramatic, foreboding voice. "Because she's so fast she disappears down the streets at night."
"That sounds dangerous."
His dimple appeared. "The best things in life are. — Jenn Bennett

He wondered if he should feel a stab of jealousy - Dimple bonding so well with his muscled, much cooler younger brother - but all he felt was this warm, almost gooey feeling in his chest. Like his heart was wrapped in microwaved Nutella. — Sandhya Menon

Myron, all six feet of super cuteness, comes forward. He smiles and I almost die, because he has one adorable dimple. Instead of getting embarrassed about his first name, he offers his hand and says, "Call me McDaniel. — Courtney Brandt

As if sensing his thoughts, Elizabeth looked up. Her pale face still showed signs of strain. He winked at her to see if he could bring out the dimple in the left corner of her smile. It worked. Her skin pinked up, and the dimple briefly appeared. That seldom-seen dimple really did something to his heart. The tiny indentation changed her from the proper Miss Hamilton to his Elizabeth. — Debra Holland

The first thing I saw was a handsome stranger. He was leaning over me and I luxuriated in his cool, radiantly blue eyes, glittering like diamonds.
How could someone be so perfect?
Drops of water glistened on his dark hair. There was a small dimple on his chin, covered with light stubble that lent his otherwise stern face a boyish attitude. I realised I was losing myself in his gaze — A.O. Esther

Jeb releases my fingers and cups my face in his hands, barely touching me, like I'm breakable. "It's me I'm losing control of. Hundreds of sketches, and I still can't get enough of your face." He traces the dimple in my chin with his thumb. "Your neck." His palm moves along my throat. "Your ... " Both hands find my waist and drag me off the table so we're standing toe to toe. " I'm not wasting another second drawing you," he whispers against my lips, "when I can touch you instead." He presses his mouth to mine. — A.G. Howard

Martin smiled, the slow curve of his mouth revealing a dimple in his left cheek.
Violet frowned, as she did every time she saw that dimple.
It didn't belong on his face. It was as simple as that. Dimples were impish and mischievous. They spoke of laughter and pleasure, not three piece suits and pipes and slippers and cardigans with elbow patches. — Sarah Mayberry

Mia Maz glanced aside in concern at his muffled snort. "Are you all right?"
"Yes. Sorry," he whispered. "I'm just having an attack of limericks."
Her eyes widened, and she bit her lip; only her deepening dimple betrayed her. "Shhh," she said, with feeling. — Lois McMaster Bujold

Is something wrong, Lieutenant North?" "Beware of Carrington," he said. "Mr. Carrington was very kind," she said. "He made no untoward remarks." "He's already got you lined up in his mind as his next wife. He's buried one already." Her breath came fast, and spots of color lodged in her cheeks. "What happened to his other wife?" Surely she wasn't interested! "She died in childbirth." "Recently?" He dropped his gaze. "No," he muttered, struggling to maintain his temper. "About ten years ago." "The poor man," she murmured. She removed her hand from John's arm. "But I'm not interested in becoming wife number two." "I'm relieved to hear it," he said. She tipped her head. "Are you? Why would that concern you?" "He's much too old for you," he said. She smiled, and her dimple appeared. "Surely he's not more than fifty." "As I said. An old man. — Colleen Coble

You're breaking my heart."
At the sound of Rider's voice, I wheeled around, clutching my bag to my side. First thing I noticed was the faded Ravens emblem stretched over his broad chest, and then I forced my eyes up. The slight scruff along his jaw was gone. Nothing but smooth skin today.
No notebook. Hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, a familiar, crooked grin pulled at Rider's lips, causing the dimple in his right cheek to pop. He stepped forward, and my heart did a backflip as he dipped his chin. I felt his warm breath on the side of my cheek as he spoke.
"You didn't respond to my text last night," he said, and there was a light, teasing tone I didn't remember from before. "I thought maybe you didn't realize it was me, but that would mean someone else would be texting you good-night and calling you Mouse. I'm not sure how I feel about that. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

I thought of all the times I had insisted being with Travis was the wrong decision, and how much time I had wasted fighting my feelings for him. Looking across the table at his soft, brown eyes, and the dimple dancing in his cheek as he chewed, I couldn't remember what I was so worried about. — Jamie McGuire

What could you teach me?" Jamie asked, a dimple flashing in his right cheek next to his earring. "Do I need to learn a secret magician handshake? Do I need to learn to do finger wands?"

Gerald burst out laughing. "I - " he said, and seemed somewhat at a loss. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Like a finger gun, but only magicians get to do it," Jamie explained, grinning and shifting his schoolbag on one shoulder. He swished one finger in a dramatic circle, making a swooshing sound to accompany the gesture.

"We don't use wands," said Gerald.

"Don't think that wasn't a crushing blow for me. — Sarah Rees Brennan

It had taken Nikki years to rehabilitate herself from a mortal attraction to cowboys. After being burned about a dozen times, she thought herself finally impervious - until this one flashed his irritatingly irresistible grin. She reminded herself that she was immune to his kind of rustic charm - but crystal-blue eyes and a chin dimple. Holy crap!
Why did her would-be lawyer have to be a incredibly hot cowboy? — Victoria Vane

Stand and yield," she called out, her voice far steadier than her hands.
"For I cannot allow you to pass." Bannor's crooked grin was somehow more intimidating than a snarl.
'Twould have been far easier to despise him if he'd been cursed with horns and a tail instead of twinkling blue eyes and a dimple in his jaw.
"What would you have me yield, my lady? My sword or my heart?"
-willow&bannor- — Teresa Medeiros

When the spill was cleaned, she reached to take the pot from Gideon's hands. He didn't release it. Reluctantly, she raised her head to see if he was angry. It wasn't anger that darkened his face, but amusement. His dark green eyes danced and his lips pursed, rising on his left side to create the most gorgeous dimple. Her insides — Misty M. Beller

The fisherman has a harmless, preoccupied look; he is a kind of vagrant, that nothing fears. He blends himself with the trees and the shadows. All his approaches are gentle and indirect. He times himself to the meandering, soliloquizing stream; he addresses himself to it as a lover to his mistress; he woos it and stays with it till he knows its hidden secrets. Where it deepens his purpose deepens; where it is shallow he is indifferent. He knows how to interpret its every glance and dimple; its beauty haunts him for days. — John Burroughs

Cal was dressed in a Hex Hall uniform. The blazer was a little tight on his broad shoulders, more so when he shrugged. "It was mine.Mrs. Casnoff brought it with her. I don't really, uh, do costumes. Figured this was a good compromise."
I'd thought no one but Archer could make that uniform look good, but Cal proved me wrong. The bright blue was nice against his tan skin and golden hair, and he looked younger. There was a dimple in his cheek as he smiled at me-something I'd never noticed before. "You make a good Hecate," he said.
I would have snorted and made a sarcastic comment, but there was something in his eyes that made me just say, "Thanks. — Rachel Hawkins

The dimple in his left cheek was ironic-it gave the impression that he was sweet as a cupcake. (Dark City Lights) — Elaine Kagan

They didn't want to take the crew-cab back to town, because they didn't want to sit where those guys had sat, so they rode the backhoe, as before, Westwood driving, Reacher and Chang face to face above his head, but this time on the dirt road. Which was slow, but more comfortable. They parked in the dealer's lot. The salesman came out. The backhoe was examined. It was a little stained by crushed wheat, and a little scratched on the sides. There was a little dirt caked on. And the front bucket had a dimple, where the bullet had struck. Not new anymore. Not exactly. Reacher gave the guy five grand from their leftover money. Easy come, easy go. Then — Lee Child

Those gray eyes slid back to her. "Your shower big enough for two?"
"Yes, but the cats don't like to get wet. Neither does the
guinea pig. But you might have some success with the lizard."
Bad, bad move. Because both corners of his mouth were
getting in on the smile action. He moved them one at a time, first the right corner, then a slow follow from the left corner.
And then he showed his dimple. — Jamie Farrell

What's your name?" The creature practically purred the question at her. His voice was low and smooth, completely unaccented. His nostrils flared slightly, as though inhaling her scent.

"Um . . ." Mia swallowed nervously. "M-Mia."

"Mia," he repeated slowly, seemingly savoring her name. "Mia what?"

"Mia Stalis." Oh crap, why did he want to know her name? Why was he here, talking to her? In general, what was he doing in Central Park, so far away from any of the K Centers? Breathe, Mia, breathe.

"Relax, Mia Stalis." His smile got wider, exposing a dimple in his left cheek. A dimple? Ks had dimples? "Have you never encountered one of us before? — Anna Zaires

So they are even more frightened than we are,' he thought. 'Why, is this all that's meant by heroism? And did I do it for the sake of my country? And was he to blame with his dimple and his blue eyes? How frightened he was! He thought I was going to kill him. Why should I kill him? My hand trembled. And they have given me the St. George's Cross. I can't make it out, I can't make it out! — Leo Tolstoy

Someone must perform my duties."
Levet stiffened. There was a faux innocence in her tone that set off his spicy senses. Or was it Spidey-sense?
He narrowed his gaze. "Duties?"
She blinked, a dimple abruptly appearing beside her mouth. "I'm a Christmas angel."
"Oui, so you said."
She waved a hand toward the nearby pines covered in snow., "And it is Christmas."
Hmm. Levet tried to recall what he'd heard about Christmas angels. He knew they didn't slide down chimneys or ride reindeer, but it seemed that they were rumored to do something Christmassy.
"Do you spread festive joy?" he demanded. — Alexandra Ivy

He's grinning hard, showing a dimple on his cheek that I haven't seen in forever. — H.M. Ward

I reached for a Coca-Cola.
"Want some?" I asked.
"I do not drink caffeine," he said.
"Wow, you make me look like a bad girl; that's hard to do."
He cracked a big smile for the first time I'd seen, and a huge dimple appeared in his right cheek. A butterfly wing flapped in my stomach. I turned my attention back to the drinks, fumbling a little for a cup.
"Don't let me pressure you," I said. "I was only kidding. We don't need you all hyped up on caffeine. How about ginger ale instead?"
"Is that drink not only for upset stomachs? — Wendy Higgins

Tyler breathed out a laugh, and I turned to see him staring at me the way I looked at the fire. He didn't look away; instead, one side of his mouth curled up. Even through the sweat and ash, his dimple appeared. In that moment, Tyler Maddox and his fires filled a hole in my soul I hadn't known existed. — Jamie McGuire

He flashes me his dimple-laden grin, and I faint.
No ... literally. I fainted. — Colleen Hoover

As a matter of fact it required only a tolerable show of virtue for Peter to win encomiums at any time. He would brush his curly mop of hair away from his forehead, lift his eyes, part his lips, showing a row of tiny white teeth; then a dimple would appear in each cheek and a seraphic expression (wholly at variance with the facts) would overspread the baby face, whereupon the beholder ... would cry "Angel boy!" and kiss him. He was even kissed now, though he had done nothing at all but exist and be an enchanting personage, which is one of the injustices of a world where a large number of virtuous and well-behaved people go unkissed to their graves! — Kate Douglas Wiggin

He looks a bit like Robert Pattinson - if you genetically spliced him with Buzz Lightyear. He has dark, quiffy hair and wide-spaced eyes, though his skin is tanned as opposed to diamond sparkly white. He has a very square jaw with a dimple in the center of his chin but alas no jet
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THE SOUND
SARAH ALDERSON
pack. I note that his eyebrow is cocked and the smile on his face is half sneer, half smirk as if he's laughing at Eliza but she doesn't seem to realize.
I shake my head. I'm making a lot of assumptions here and the only two that I can safely claim are true are the ones about him being neither a vampire nor a space ranger. — Sarah Alderson

Carlos began writing in his folder. "I have eight guys working with me and a project this size would take about eight weeks."
"Eight weeks?" she shot back. "That seems an awfully long time."
He raised his eyebrows and actually smiled. "Yes, but I guess a rookie like you wouldn't know that."
This time it was she who frowned back. "Smart-ass," she mumbled and decided to ignore the dimple in his right cheek. She shouldn't have encouraged smiling. It was definitely not working in her favor. He didn't look at all like the nice, safe fellow she had wished for. — Mila Rossi